


Enter Sandman

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Monster of the Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A call from one of their dad's old acquaintances leads the Winchester brothers to Egypt, where they take on a sand monster in the Sahara desert. Set in Season 1 after "The Benders"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enter Sandman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 SPN Reversed Bang. 
> 
> Art by the wonderful uh_tiramisu! You can check it out here: http://uh-tiramisu.livejournal.com/4290.html - or view it while reading the fic ;)

                                                                    

 

It had all started on a cold autumn day. The sun was setting on the horizon; its glowing orange-red and yellow colors decorated the scenery and the hood of the Impala in a colorful blaze that - combined with the rumble of the engine of his baby and the soft snores from his brother - filled Dean’s heart with a pleasant sense of calmness and happiness. It had taken quite a few miles and a change to a soft rock station on the radio for Sam to doze off (which had been Dean’s intention from the start) and his kid brother was now slumped against the window of the passenger side of the car – soundly asleep. After having been caged in an icy cell by the psychotic Benders family without as much as a jacket, Sam was battling a cold and, on top of what had happened on the Max Miller case where his nightmares had developed into something more, Dean couldn’t remember the last time Sam had had a good night’s sleep. What happened to Jess was still weighing heavily on Sam’s shoulders and, even though his brother wasn’t talking about it, Dean knew Sam still woke up in the middle of the night, gasping her name. This was the first time in several weeks that Sam had managed to sleep as peacefully as he was doing right now, so Dean continued to drive without any particular destination in mind – wanting his brother to rest for as long as he possibly could.  
  
However, just as Dean was enjoying the peaceful moment with his brother by his side, the sudden buzzing of his phone interrupted. Letting out an annoyed sigh and eyeing Sam, who was luckily still asleep, Dean quickly dug out his phone from his pocket and snapped it open.  
  
“This better be important.” Dean mumbled in a low voice, eyes shifting between Sam and the road, while he put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”  
  
Thinking back on that phone call now, Dean didn’t know what had specifically made him accept the hunt. Maybe it was the fact that the call came from an old acquaintance of John Winchester – a hunter named Irv Franklin that Dean had met a couple of times while hunting with his dad, and whom might have heard news of their missing father. Maybe it was because Dean thought that a little bit of warmth could do Sam some good and help him get rid of his cold, or maybe the reason was that he figured they both needed a change of scenery after all the crap they’d been through lately. For whatever reason it was, Dean had ended up promising Irv that he and Sam would help him out, and Sam had been more than a little aghast when Dean had told him about it after they’d checked into a motel room later that day.  
  
“You’re kidding me?” Sam said, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets while staring at his big brother in disbelief. “We’re doing a hunt… _where_?”  
  
“Egypt.” Dean repeated, a smile tucking at the corner of his lips by the look on Sam’s face.  
  
“Egypt… as in Africa?” Sam asked.  
  
“No, Egypt as in Michigan.” Dean said with sarcasm and rolled his eyes. “Where else would it be?”  
  
“But Dean… This isn’t just crossing the border to Canada or Mexico in the car, you know.” Sam said. “Hell, we’re gonna have to fly! And we can’t take our weapons with us either.”  
  
“Sam, I know this might come as a big shock to you but I’m pretty sure they have guns in Egypt too.” Dean said, making Sam huff. “Besides, when was the last time we saw anything else than the American highways, huh? Come on! It’ll be fun.”  
  
But that was _before_ he’d properly thought through exactly what this trip would entail. Firstly, they had to abandon his beloved Impala. Second, he had to spend more than fourteen _terrifying_ hours thousands of feet off the surface of the earth, clamped inside a tin can with wings that sent Dean’s heart into his throat with every hint of turbulence. But, almost worst of all, was his geeky little brother going on and on about Egyptian culture, mythology and archaeology to the point where Dean had threatened to remodel Sam’s face if he didn’t shut the hell up.  
  
When they finally arrived in Egypt, Dean had never before felt so happy about having both feet firmly planted on the ground again. Even Sam seemed happy about being out of the plane – although he wasn’t the one whose voice had turned hoarse from humming Metallica for fourteen hours straight.  
  
The brothers met up with Irv Franklin outside Cairo airport and the hunter was, just as he’d told Dean on the phone, limping around on crutches with his broken foot in a cast. Dean had told Sam all the stuff he knew about Irv, but it was the first time the younger Winchester had met the older hunter. Sam did what he always did when meeting new people (especially hunters) – he stopped up half a step behind his big brother from where he could eye Irv from a safe distance while still being within arm’s reach of Dean. Having each other’s backs was something the brothers had always done and, by now, it was so deeply ingrained in the both of them that neither really noticed.  
  
“Dean, good to see ya again.” Irv said and patted the older brother’s shoulder. “How’s your old man? Tried to get him on the phone but his voicemail told me to give _you_ a call instead.”  
  
“Well, that’s a long story.” Dean sighed and tried to hide his disappointment now that he knew that Irv wouldn’t be able to tell them more about their missing father’s whereabouts.  
  
“He’s not in any kind of trouble, right?” Franklin asked but Dean shook his head.  
  
“No. Let’s just say he’s out of reach right now.” Dean said and was grateful when Irv dropped the subject. He really didn’t want to talk about dad’s continued radio silence right now.  
  
“O-kay.” Irv said and shrugged his shoulders, and Dean then saw him eye his tall, floppy-haired kid brother who was still standing a few steps behind Dean with his hands buried in his pockets. “You must be John’s other kid. Sammy, right?”  
  
“Sam.” The younger brother corrected with a polite smile and extended his hand to Irv.  
  
“What happened to your foot?” Dean asked while the two other hunters shook hands.  
  
“You don’t wanna know.” The older hunter said and wiped some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “But I’m no good for hiking in the desert with this gimp foot, so that’s where I need you boys’ help.”  
  
After a short but rather crazy taxi ride through the overcrowded traffic from Cairo to the town of Giza (that had both Winchesters longing for the safeness of the Impala), they arrived at Irv’s temporary residence. After freshening up, they gathered around a table in the main room to talk about the hunt. Irv had originally, on his doctor’s orders, travelled to Egypt for a nice, relaxing vacation to rest up after a particular rough run-in with a poltergeist. However, on his arrival, he had soon heard local rumors about a monster ravaging the Western Desert (which, Sam butted in to helpfully inform them, was also known as the Libyan Desert – the western part of the Sahara desert). Irv hadn’t been able to let the matter go without checking it out first. A great number of people, both tourists and locals, had gone missing in said desert over the years, and Franklin had talked to several people who had seen some rather strange things out there. Some of them told him stories about a worm-like creature that captured people, dragged them underneath the sand dunes and swallowed them alive. Others had believed it bore a bigger resemblance to a giant scorpion, but they too had mentioned that it dragged its victims underneath the sand, never to be seen again. Irv did some more digging into the subject and found several mentions of a Mongolian death worm that was considered to exist in the Gobi Desert, but he had no idea how such a worm could come to be located in Egypt. He did, however, find local legends about giant scorpions, but he had nothing other than the word of some unreliable eyewitnesses to support that theory.  
  
“So I set out to see if I could find traces of the so-called sand monster myself, but the desert is an unforgiving place and I broke my foot out there.” Irv explained, using one end of a pencil to scratch the itching skin beneath his cast. “Thank God I had a guide with me or else I would have probably died of dehydration, or have been eaten by wild hyenas before anyone could have found me.”  
  
“So, what makes you think this is our kind of job?” Sam asked, flipping through the scribbled pages in Irv’s notebook. “It could as well just be a local myth – making a monster out of some ignorant tourists getting lost in the desert. A mountain out of a molehill, you know?”  
  
“I thought so too, until one of the people I talked to showed me a short phone recording of his uncle being taken by the monster.” Irv said and Dean raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Someone actually recorded it?” Dean asked.  
  
“Yup. Short and blurred, but there was definitely something fishy going on.” Irv said. “And I was hoping you boys could figure out exactly what it is.”

 

                                             

 

“You can’t be serious.” Dean said, warily eyeing the ugly, mutant giraffe that was currently carrying all of their stuff on its back while a local guide dragged it along. “There’s no way this camel can run as fast as you say it does.”  
  
“It does run that fast, and it’s not a camel, Dean - it’s a dromedary.” Sam corrected and completely missed the eye roll his big brother sent him as he studied the map Franklin had given them before they’d left town. “A camel has two humps on its back while a dromedary only has one.”  
  
“Who cares?” Dean asked with annoyance and adjusted the black headscarf he was wearing, eyes blinking against the brightness of the sun.

                                  

Even though he knew it wouldn’t be very practical to wear his regular jeans and leather jacket in the desert, Dean was already missing his own clothes. Aside from the headscarf that had been wrapped around his head to protect him from the boiling sun, Dean was also wearing a long blue cloak-like thing – a sort of desert dress - on top of one of his t-shirts and the pair of stupid pajama pants he’d been equipped with. To complete the outfit, the older Winchester had been given a pair of brown desert shoes that, practical or not, felt like a big insult to his normally so cool image. God, why hadn’t he at least thought to bring his sunglasses with him?  
  
Sam was wearing a similar type of outfit with the only difference that his headscarf was white and his cloak was black. And, unlike Dean, the younger Winchester hadn’t complained about his clothing but had found it both interesting and fascinating to be wearing something from a whole different culture than the one they were familiar with.  
  
“It’s a dress, Sammy.” Dean had pointed out when Sam had shared his enthusiasm with the older brother.  
  
“It’s a _robe,_ Dean.” Sam had fired back, bitch-face firmly in place. “The Egyptians call it Jellabiya."  
  
“Yeah, I don’t see the difference.” Dean had said – then smacked the back of Sam’s neck, none too gently, when the younger brother rolled his eyes at him while muttering something under his breath that Dean could only assume was insulting.

                             

                                                           

Since bringing weapons on a plane ride was a big no-no, the brothers hadn’t brought any of their arsenal with them, but Irv had assembled an impressive collection of rifles and knives during his time in Egypt, which he’d made available to them. The pick of this arsenal was now safely stowed away in the bags currently attached to the giant distorted horse – along with the rest of their gear.  
  
The sun was burning, big and bright, emitting massive waves of heat that shimmered in the air and made the horizon seem blurry to the eye.  
  
Sam wiped a hand across his sweaty bangs that stuck out from underneath the headscarf, and sipped some water while eyeing the sandy landscape that seemed to go on forever. Despite how fascinating it all was, Sam knew it was also a giant death trap and the young hunter shuddered at the thought of getting lost out there – at the mercy of whatever may lure in the ruthless surroundings.  
  
“How far?” His brother’s voice asked beside him and Sam screwed the lid back on his waterskin before unfolding Irv’s map to find the area circled on it.  
  
“I’m not sure.” Sam admitted. “Hang on, I’ll ask the guide.”  
  
Sam walked up to the guide and showed him the map and, after he tried to communicate with the local man who understood English decently but didn’t speak it much, Sam returned to find Dean having a staring contest with the pack animal.  
  
“You’re a fugly son of a bitch, man.” Sam heard Dean mutter with a shake of his head and his big brother wrinkled his nose as the big animal let out a breath of fetid air. “And someone should really remind you to brush your teeth.”  
  
“So, the guide said that…” Sam started, but had trailed off as he’d looked at his older brother. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Just having a conversation with the camel.” Dean said, matter-of-factly.  
  
“You’re having a…?” Sam began, then cut himself off with a shake of his head, deciding it was probably better not to ask about it. “It’s still a dromedary, Dean.”  
  
“Whatever you say.” Dean said, brushing aside Sam’s correction. “What did the guide say?”  
  
“That we aren’t far from the right place.” Sam answered and folded up the map once more before putting it back into his pocket. “Another forty minutes perhaps.”  
  
“Great.” Dean sighed, looking anything but pleased with that piece of news - then proceeded to mutter under his breath. “I thought you said we weren’t far from it?”  
  
“We aren’t.” Sam said with a frown. “Forty minutes isn’t that long.”  
  
“No, forty minutes behind Baby’s wheel isn’t that long, but out here? I’m getting frigging _boiled_ out here in this giant oven, Sam, and my geeky little brother thinks I need a history lesson every time we pass by as much as an old stone. Stupid old Pharaohs and their big egos. Who the hell needs a whole pyramid as a tomb?”  
  
Sam’s lips twitched in a hidden smile as he continued to listen to his brother’s grumbles, and when Dean at last dropped the subject, Sam told Dean more about his conversation with the guide.  
  
“He said he’ll stop at a safe distance and let us continue the last bit of the way on our own.” Sam said.  
  
“Why?” Dean asked.  
  
“Well… He knows about the local rumors and called the land cursed.” Sam answered, once again brushing a hand through his sweaty bangs. “He’s refusing to even set foot in that area.”  
  
“As long as he doesn’t run off with the camel and leave us to rot out here, I’m good.” Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.  
  
“Not a camel, Dean. _Dromedary_.” Sam sighed.  
  
“Whatever.” Dean responded.

                                

When they finally arrived at the right part of the desert, the guide led the dromedary to a shadowy spot underneath a couple of lone palm trees while the Winchester brothers each grabbed their gear and started checking out the area. It was extremely hot in the sun and both brothers were sweating profusely as they wandered around in the sand, looking for signs of the so-called sand monster. At this time of the day, after having walked through the desert in direct sunlight for hours without a break, they should have been resting in the shade for a while before continuing the task at hand, but the Winchesters had always been more concerned about getting the job done than their own well-being. Besides, they needed to get back to town before nightfall since the temperature of the desert tended to drop to freezing during the nights at this time of year, so they really didn’t want to waste any time.  
  
Sam almost regretted not staying in the shade though. He felt extremely hot inside the headscarf and had to pull it off several times just to feel like being able to breathe again. It didn’t help matters that he’d left his waterskin in one of the bags the dromedary was carrying.  Sam had wanted to ration the water for later use, but hadn’t realized how fast he became thirsty without it.  
  
“I think this is a safe enough distance from Ramses over there.” Dean said, nodding in direction of the guide and then put down his bag to grab a rifle that he swung onto his shoulder in case of unwelcome company. “I can barely see him and the camel from here.”  
  
“Dromedary.” Sam corrected automatically and dropped his bag to grab a rifle of his own. “Speaking of Ramses, did you know that Ramses the second, who was also known as Ramses the Great, was the first king in history to sign a peace treaty with his enemies?”  
  
“Oh my God, Sam, stop.” Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if in pain.  
  
“What?” Sam asked, zipped up his bag and looked up at his older brother with a dewy-eyed look on his face.  
  
“Let’s just focus on the hunt before I melt out here, all right, Joe College?” Dean asked and Sam shrugged his shoulders with a huff.  
  
As he straightened back up, Sam winced as the thigh-muscle of his right leg started twitching involuntarily for a few moments and he let out a soft groan while rubbing the sore muscle. Dean, never one to miss anything where Sam was concerned, looked at his younger brother with a frown on his face.  
  
“You okay?” He asked.  
  
“Yeah, just a cramp.” Sam answered and Dean raised his eyebrows.  
  
“A cramp?” Dean asked, incredulously – then grinned. “Dude, I know we’ve walked for hours but that’s just pathetic. You’re getting out of shape there, little brother.”  
  
“Oh, shut up.” Sam muttered and trotted past his chuckling brother.  
  
As Sam scouted the sandy landscape, something caught his attention in the distance. Sam stopped in his tracks, screwed up his eyes and used his hand to shield them against the brightness of the sun as he tried to make out what he had spotted.  
  
“Dean,” Sam said without moving his head.  
  
“What?” Dean asked as he caught up with his younger brother. “Another cramp, Samantha?”  
  
“No, there’s something out there.” Sam said and pointed his finger.

                                   

Face immediately turning serious, Dean copied Sam’s posture, shielded his eyes against the sun and looked in the direction Sam had pointed out. From the distance, Sam had caught sight of what seemed like a flock of birds that was circling above something on the ground, but he couldn’t make out the details. His big brother seemed to have the same problem since Dean quickly found a pair of binoculars in his bag and used them to take a better look at the birds in the distance.  
  
“Son of a bitch…” Dean then said.  
  
“Are those… vultures?” Sam asked and Dean nodded grimly.  
  
“Yeah, and I’m betting the carcass they’re circling above doesn’t belong to an animal.” Dean said and Sam winced.  
  
“So, someone definitely died out here,” Sam concluded, exchanging a look with his brother as Dean removed the binoculars; “but how?”  
  
“Only one way to find out,” Dean said and together the brothers headed in the direction of the carcass.  
  
When they got closer, they could clearly make out the big, black-and-white colored birds that were either circling above the corpse, or pecking and nipping at its flesh. A terrible stench of decay filled the warm air, making both Winchesters cough into their sleeves as they reached the mangled body.  
  
“Shoo! Get out of here, you damn flying rats!” Dean shouted, and waved his arms at the vultures to chase them away.  
  
“Oh Geez…” Sam muttered, crouched down next to the cadaver, and gagged a few times as he took in sight of the stinking and torn body.  
  
The torso and lower part of the body looked like it’d been ripped half-apart – a big chunk of the chest was missing and the other half had been torn open all the way into the bones. Both eyes were missing in their sockets, which Sam assumed was the doing of the vultures, and the rest of the face was one big wound. A few fingers and the left foot were also missing and the whole body was covered in a layer of sand. From the look of the scratches on the guy’s back and the marks on the legs, it seemed like the victim had been grasped by something large and sharp and then dragged.  
  
“Dude.” Sam groaned, gagged once more and took off his headscarf to cover his mouth and nose with it.  
  
“Either this poor sucker was the victim of a seriously vicious animal attack…” Dean said with a wrinkle of his nose - though managing to look more composed than Sam did right now while he examined the dead body. “... or else I think we’ve found a possible proof to the existence of this sand monster.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said, swallowed down bile and pointed at a mark on the guy’s body. “This looks kind of odd... like some sort of sting – only incredibly large.”  
  
“Like a giant scorpion stinger, perhaps?” Dean suggested in that unamused tone he always used when they discovered something that led them in a direction he didn’t like going, and Sam nodded.  
  
“Yeah, could be,” Sam agreed.  
  
“Fantastic.” Dean said with sarcasm and threw up his hands – then made another discovery. “Hey, check this out.”  
  
Sam got up from his crouched position, winced a bit as his thigh muscle once again started cramping for a few seconds, but he bit down the sound of pain so Dean wouldn’t have another reason to tease him. He then caught up with his older brother to see what Dean had found; a wide, flat trail in the sand – looking almost like an enormous rolling pin had rolled through the desert and flattened out the area.  
  
“What kind of creature leaves tracks like that?” Sam asked, looking at the giant trail.  
  
Before Dean could answer, the brothers both stopped up as the trail suddenly ended in a huge, dark hole in the ground.  
  
“Something tells me that whatever it is, Sammy, it’s down there.” Dean said.

                                                

The brothers decided to return to the place where they’d left the guide and the dromedary, to rest up in the shade a bit while discussing what their next move should be. Judging by the ginormous hole they had discovered in the ground, they were up against a larger creature than anything else they’d ever hunted before, and they needed a plan.   
  
On their way back, Dean noticed Sam was looking rather pale – despite the fact that the sun was coloring his cheeks in a rosy color. Dean couldn’t blame him though. Regardless of all the disgusting things they had seen over the years that had toughened them both up, the mangled corpse they’d found in the desert had been a particularly nasty sight. Combined with the terrible stench of decay, even Dean had had trouble keeping down his lunch, and his kid brother was the one who had the more sensitive stomach of the two of them after all. But as they walked through the burning hot sand, Dean noticed that Sam was also sweating profusely – a whole lot more than Dean was, and to the point where it was literally pouring off his face – and when Sam soon began to stagger a bit in his steps, Dean realized something was completely off with his brother.   
  
“Dude,” Dean said as he grabbed a hold of Sam’s arm to steady him. “What’s going on with you?”  
  
“I just…” Sam started, then clenched his eyes shut and swallowed a couple of times as if fighting the urge to vomit. “I don’t feel so good.”  
  
As if to emphasize that statement, Sam swayed a bit, and Dean quickly tightened his hold of him.  
  
“Whoa!” Dean exclaimed. “Talk to me, Sammy. What’s wrong?”  
  
“I think… it started with the cramps,” Sam mumbled, pain lines visible around his eyes when he opened them back up to look at Dean; “then came the headache.”  
  
“And dizziness? Nausea too?” Dean asked, and sighed when Sam nodded. “Okay, that’s it. We’re getting you out of the sun _now_ before this turns into a heatstroke, geek boy.”  
  
Without letting go of his kid brother, Dean guided Sam the last bit of the way back to where the guide and the smelly camel waited – then sat him down on a shadowy spot underneath a palm tree, before going through one of the bags to fetch Sam’s waterskin.   
  
“Too much sun,” Dean explained to the guide who was looking puzzled, but whether or not the guide understood what Dean was talking about, he had no idea. Dean didn’t care to elaborate though – especially not since his attention was on Sam as his kid brother started cursing.   
  
“Shit…” Sam groaned and Dean saw him clasping his legs.  
  
“Cramps?” He asked, returning to Sam’s side.   
  
“Yeah, both legs.” Sam hissed out between gritted teeth before Dean batted his hands away.   
  
“Here. Drink,” Dean ordered, shoving the waterskin into Sam’s hands and lifted up one of Sam’s legs to gently stretch the cramping muscles. “You need to cool down and hydrate, buddy.”  
  
“I know,” Sam panted, tearing off his head-covering and shaking his sweaty, shaggy hair. “Dad drilled it into us like a million times.”  
  
“Yeah, and now you’re pretty glad he did, huh?” Dean said with a pointed look.  
  
Sam responded with a huff and, deciding that now wasn’t the ideal time to discuss father issues, Dean changed the subject.  
  
“Hey, I bet this stuff would never have happened if you were born a camel,” Dean said, nodding in direction of the butt-ugly creature. “How much water did you say it could drink?“  
  
“53 gallons in three minutes,” Sam responded, unbuttoned his cloak and poured water on himself to cool down; “and it’s still a dromedary, Dean!”  
  
“Or a very tiny dinosaur.” Dean responded and continued when Sam shot him an unamused look. “No, think about it; it’s ugly as hell, it smells, it’s a giant hairy freak of nature – oh wait, maybe we should name it _Sam_.”  
  
“Very funny.” Sam said dryly, then drew a sharp intake of breath as Dean put down his leg and switched to Sam’s other cramping leg to stretch that one out too.  
  
“Take it easy.” Dean said in a soft voice, watching Sam with barely masked concern as he gently stretched and massaged the tightening muscles with his fingers.  
  
Even though Sam was still sweaty and pale, he at least didn’t look to be on the verge of passing out on Dean anymore. Dean was glad he had reacted quickly when Sam had started to feel bad, so that his little brother hadn’t developed an actual heat stroke – that was a condition to be reckoned with and could, in worst case, be fatal.   
  
“Here.” Sam said and handed Dean the waterskin back. “You need fluids too.”  
  
Dean accepted the waterskin and discovered as he took a sip that it was almost empty. He made a mental note to remember to check how much water they had left. With Sam succumbing to the heat before they even took on the sand monster, it could be necessary to go back to town or find a waterhole somewhere before they ran out. For now, every drop was precious.   
  
Just as Dean was about to suggest this to his brother, the guide, whom Dean had almost forgotten about while taking care of Sam, started yelling. As he turned around, Dean saw the guide with one of their rifles in hand, shouting at them in Egyptian while gesturing wildly with his hands.   
  
“The hell…?” Dean started – then noticed Sam’s open bag in the sand where their notable arsenal of rifles and knives was clearly on view.   
  
Dean must have forgotten to zip up the bag again in his search for Sam’s waterskin and, for whatever reason, the guide had discovered the weapons and had freaked out.   
  
“Hey,” Dean started and took a step towards the guide, “it’s not what you think. We…”  
  
Before Dean could finish his sentence, the guide fired off the rifle into the sand, very close to Dean’s feet, and Dean froze on the spot.  
  
“Whoa! Take it easy, man,” Dean said, slowly lifting his hands in the air in a defensive manner. “I won’t come closer.”  
  
“Dean?” Sam called warily from behind him.  
  
“I’m good, Sam.” Dean said and, without taking his eyes off the freaked guide in front of him, he signaled with a hand for his brother to stay put, and addressed the guide again. “Listen, we’re not looking for trouble. There’s something out there, some creature on the cursed land, and we’re here to stop it. That’s what we need the weapons for.”  
  
But the guide didn’t seem to be listening to Dean’s explanation, or maybe he didn’t understand what Dean was saying. He continued to yell in Egyptian and waved the rifle at them, and Dean discreetly moved closer to his brother – shielding Sam from the potential line of fire. Even though his kid brother hated when Dean put himself at risk, Sam was still unwell, and sitting on the ground he was in a much more vulnerable position than Dean was in the moment. Besides, Dean’s need to protect his little brother had always been bigger than his need to protect himself, and no matter what Sam thought of it, that would never change.   
  
“Wait, hang on.” Dean said when the guide, while still aiming the rifle at them, grabbed their bags and the reins of the camel and started dragging it away from them. “Hang on! That’s our stuff! You can’t just…”  
  
When Dean tried to follow him, the guide fired off more rounds into the sand to stop him as the guide backed away from the brothers - while continuing to shout at them in Egyptian.   
  
“Is he leaving us out here?” Sam asked in disbelief.  
  
“Yeah, but he’ll soon run out of bullets and when he does, I’ll…” Dean started – then stopped as he felt a low rumble beneath his feet; a rumble that seemed to move underneath the sand as it grew louder and louder, and made the grains of sand dance. It felt like a small earthquake.   
  
“Dean,” Sam said and Dean turned around to see Sam, back on his feet, staring wide-eyed at him; “the guide.”  
  
Dean stared puzzled at Sam for a few seconds, but then his eyes widened as he realized what Sam had already guessed. This wasn’t an earthquake – this had to be the sand monster moving!   
  
The brothers went after the fleeing guide to stop him from endangering himself. However, the guide was done making warning shots, and Dean and Sam had to throw themselves behind a ridge of sand to avoid being hit by flying bullets. It was flimsy protection at best.  
  
“Stop!” Sam shouted, peeking over the pile of sand to catch a glimpse of the guide. “You don’t understand!”  
  
“You’re gonna get killed, you idiot!” Dean added, but the guide wasn’t listening.  
  
The rumbling under the ground suddenly came to a stop and everything went quiet around them. Even the guide stopped shooting the rifle and instead looked in confusion from side to side, while still holding on to the reins of the camel. The silence was eerie and Dean exchanged a look with Sam – both brothers appeared to be asking the same question; was the sudden silence a good thing or a bad thing?  
  
Unfortunately, it turned out to be the latter. The ground exploded as the biggest creature, Dean had ever seen shot up from the sand. The sand monster’s body, which seemed to be at least fifty feet long and sixteen feet wide and almost had the same color as the sand, looked like the body of a giant worm. However, it had two large claws up front, and its body ended up in a narrow, segmented tail with a giant stinger that reminded Dean of a scorpion. As the sand monster opened up its massive mouth to capture the escaping guide, Dean also saw a pair of pointed fangs pierce the guide’s mid-section, before the creature started dragging the screaming man back into the hole in the ground.   
  
“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted as both he and Sam got back on their feet and looked on in horror at the scene unfolding in front of them.   
  
“Come on!” Sam said and started moving towards the sand monster.   
  
“Sam, no.” Dean said, grabbing a hold of Sam’s upper arm and pulled his brother back.   
  
“Dean, we gotta help him!” Sam exclaimed. “We can’t just…”  
  
“It’s too late.” Dean said without letting go of Sam’s arm.   
  
“But…” Sam started when Dean cut him off again.  
  
“I saw his neck snap,” Dean revealed with a grim expression; “and you saw what it did to him with those fangs - he could never have made it, Sammy. He’s gone.”  
  
Sam visibly deflated in front of him as realization set in, and Dean let go of Sam’s arm, before both brothers turned around to see the last bit of the sand monster disappear into the ground with the now dead body of the poor guide.

                                                  

“So, that’s a new one.” Dean said when they were once again seated underneath the lone palm trees, trying to figure out how to deal with the sand monster. “What do we call it? ‘Sand monster’ is just so random, that could mean anything. It did look like one of those freaky worms from Star Wars - although this one had those fangs. What the hell _was_ that thing anyway? One of Dracula’s guard dogs? Hey, we should totally name it vamp-worm-pion! Or maybe vamp-pion-worm?”  
  
“Can we please just focus on how to kill it?” Sam asked with a sigh and washed a hand down his sweaty face.  
  
Despite having cooled down a bit in the shade, he was still not feeling too well and the damn headache wouldn’t leave him alone. Sam also felt bad for what had happened to their guide. They should have been more careful – they should have reacted faster when the sand monster had shown up. Now, another human life had ended, and Sam couldn’t help but blame himself for it.  
  
“We couldn’t have done anything,” Dean then said, as if he’d read Sam’s mind; “but we can end this now, make sure no one else dies because of that freaky space slug.”  
  
“You think regular bullets are going to work?” Sam asked, turning tired eyes towards his brother.  
  
“I hope so,” Dean answered with a thoughtful look on his face; “but if it’s anything like Dracula though, bullets won’t do it any harm. Maybe we need to put a stake through its heart and decapitate it.”  
  
“Even if that made any sense, Dean, with a creature this size you’d probably need to stab it with a palm tree before it had any effect.” Sam said and ignored the face Dean pulled at his remark.  
  
Sam really hoped bullets would do the trick. Aside from the rifles, the only other type of weapons they’d brought along for the trip were knives. Somehow Sam doubted that knives would be very effective against a creature as big as this one if the bullets didn’t work, and they didn’t know how else to kill it. They had found nothing even remotely close to the large worm in Dad’s journal, and now they were miles away from an internet connection – let alone a computer.   
  
“Maybe we can use the camel as bait.” Dean suggested, eyeing the pack animal that was currently tied to one of the palm trees.   
  
“For the millionth time, Dean – it’s a dromedary!” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, if we use it as bait and the sand monster kills it, we will have to carry our bags through the desert, all the way back to town. And who knows, it might come in handy if we need to get out of here in a hurry.”  
  
“You mean _riding_ that thing?” Dean asked and looked at Sam as if he thought his little brother had gone crazy. “No thanks, I prefer to ride the four-wheeled kind – not the four-legged kind.”  
  
“You’d probably change your mind if our lives depended on it.” Sam said.  
  
“Whatever man.” Dean responded.  
  
It was quite impressive that the dromedary had survived the run-in with the sand monster anyway. Fortunately, the big worm had only wanted the guide and had left the dromedary completely unharmed. Hell, aside from the big hole in the ground and the trails from the massive body, the sand monster hadn’t left much havoc in its wake. Even the gear was still intact.   
  
“How are you doing anyway?” Dean asked. “You well enough to do this? ‘Cause we could go back to town, regroup and come back out here when you’re feeling better.”  
  
“No, I’m good,” Sam said, squirming a little under Dean’s scrutinizing look; “let’s just get this over with – before anyone else gets killed.”  
  
The brothers came up with a plan for how they were going to get rid of the sand monster. Since the creature had appeared when the guide had shot the rifle, Sam was convinced the vibrations from the bullets’ impact with the sand were what had attracted it. Therefore, they’d decided to use the rifles to lure the beast out of its hiding – although from a safe distance. They took position on top of one of the sandbanks, belly-down with their rifles to their shoulders in true sniper style.   
  
“You ready?” Dean asked while looking down the sight of his rifle.  
  
“Yeah.” Sam replied, mimicking his big brother’s posture, with a finger hovering over the trigger.  
  
“Alright, let’s do this.” Dean said and then fired off a couple of shots – aiming for and hitting the sandy ground where the sand monster had first appeared and had attacked the guide.   
  
A drop of sweat trickled down Sam’s temple as he and Dean waited for the sand monster to reappear. Sam’s pulse was racing, adrenaline pumping in his veins as it always did when they hunted things. Waiting for a monster as big as this one was extra nerve-wracking though – especially since they didn’t know for sure how to kill it.   
  
Dean fired off another round of shots into the sand, quickly reloaded his rifle and took aim once more. When still nothing happened after waiting for several more minutes, Sam started questioning his theory about the vibrations in the ground. But that was before the earth suddenly started shaking once again.   
  
“Here it comes.” Dean said and Sam nodded his head, swallowing nervously and added a little pressure to the trigger – ready to fire.   
  
The vamp-pion-worm (or whatever Dean had called it) shot out of the sand like a projectile. Even before all of its massive body had fully appeared, the Winchester brothers were firing. Sam knew that even if he and Dean hadn’t been excellent shots, it would still have been pretty easy to hit their target. However, instead of penetrating the sand monster’s skin as they were supposed to do, the bullets ricocheted off the surface without doing any harm to the big creature at all.

                                         

“The hell…?” Dean said; “Sam?”  
  
“It’s not working,” Sam confirmed; “maybe you were right about that stake through the heart after all.”   
  
The sand monster suddenly turned ninety degrees and headed straight for them. Sam wondered if the worm could not only feel the vibrations in the sand, but somehow also sense him and Dean - maybe even smell them. They fired off a few more shots but when nothing seemed to hurt the creature, it was time to get away.   
  
“Sammy, run!” Dean shouted and gave Sam a shove, before the two of them started running through the sand.   
  
Running in a desert was a difficult thing to do though; Sam felt like they were running half as fast as they usually did, while using twice the effort. He gasped as the monster suddenly plowed through the sandy hill they were running down. A cascade of sand rained over them. The force of it made both brothers trip, and they rolled the rest of the way down the steep hill. Sam’s head swam when he finally stopped rolling, and he then heard his brother shout out as the worm caught up with them. Forcing his disorientation away, Sam jumped back on his feet. Dean was on his back in the sand, rolling back and forth in an attempt to avoid the giant stinger the worm kept aiming for his head.   
  
“Dean!” Sam shouted and ran towards his brother – only to fly back as one of the creature’s big claws swept him away.   
  
With a groan, Sam hit the sandy ground once more. The wind was knocked out of him, but he ignored it and rolled back on his feet. He had to rescue Dean. Sam’s eyes widened in horror as the monster closed one of its claws around Dean’s chest and lifted him into the air. It raised Dean above its mouth as if to swallow him, and Sam reacted promptly. Having noticed that the sand monster’s skin was different on the now exposed underside from the rest of it, Sam aimed his rifle at it and fired. The bullet whistled through the air and hit its target dead-on; it bore through the worm’s belly and the big creature shrieked. Seeing the effect it had on the sand monster, Sam quickly fired off another couple of shots. The monster let go of Dean, and Sam watched his brother fall through the air and land on the sandy ground.  
  
“Dean!” Sam gasped, rushed towards his big brother and slid down on his knees next to Dean’s unmoving body.  
  
Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulders and rolled Dean onto his back. He winced as he saw a bleeding cut on the right side of Dean’s forehead, but was relieved that his brother otherwise seemed okay.   
  
“Dean, come on.” Sam said, urgently shaking him.   
  
Dean moaned softly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly. It was a good sign since it meant that Dean was starting to regain conscious.   
  
“That’s it, that’s it,” Sam said encouragingly; “we need to get away before …”  
  
But that was all Sam managed to say before a sharp pain shot through his upper arm. He looked down and gasped for breath as he noticed the big stinger poking out of his arm. Just as fast as the stinger had penetrated his arm though, it pulled back out. At first, Sam felt like his arm was on fire, but it soon turned completely numb, and vertigo washed over him. Sam didn’t even realize he’d gone down before he felt the sand underneath his cheek. The world had tilted before his eyes and he was now blinking sluggishly at his big brother who still hadn’t opened his eyes.  
  
“D-Dea…” Sam gasped, lips barely moving as he struggled to talk.   
  
He cried out as something bore into the back of his left calf, and Sam desperately clenched the fabric of Dean’s cloak – unconsciously seeking comfort in his brother. Sam was then suddenly torn away from Dean, and dragged backwards through the sand. Even though he was practically choking on the sand that found its way into his mouth, nose, eyes and ears - Sam kept his eyes locked on Dean’s form until seeing was no longer an option.

                                                  

The ground was still shaking slightly when Dean blinked his eyes back open. The brightness of the sun was hurting his aching head, and as he slowly moved into a sitting position, Dean felt his ribs protesting against the movement. It was when he became aware of the sandy surroundings that Dean suddenly remembered where he was and what had happened. Looking from side to side, he expected to see the frigging vamp-pion-worm going at him again, but there was nothing to see. No big worm, no claws, no stinger, no nothing. Even worse though, Dean realized with a hammering heart that Sam was nowhere to be found either.   
  
“Sam?” Dean called, and put a protective arm over his chest, as he got vertical with a groan. “Sammy?”  
  
Wiping away the trickle of blood from his forehead, Dean almost stumbled over the abandoned rifle in the sand. When he bent down to pick it up, Dean noticed a trail of dragging marks on the sandy ground, and he frowned. It didn’t take him more than a second to put two-and-two together, and a mix of anxiety and anger bubbled to the surface.  
  
“You son of a bitch!” Dean bellowed and started running along the trail as fast as his aching ribs allowed. “If you’ve done _anything_ to Sam, I swear to God…”  
  
Dean noticed a strange combination of crimson and a greenish color in the sand. He clenched his jaw, not doubting for a second that the red was blood and most likely belonged to his little brother - which meant that Sam was hurt… or worse. But Dean wondered what the green color was. He then remembered that Sam had fired some shots at the sand monster, and the creature had somehow reacted to it. So maybe it was hurt too?  
  
Dean reached the top of the sandbank - just in time to see the vamp-pion-worm drag Sam into a big hole in the ground.   
  
“No!” Dean shouted in horror and started running down the sandy hill while pulling the rifle off his shoulder in the process.   
  
“You get back here!” Dean shouted and fired off bullet after bullet into the sand. “Give him back _right now_ , you bastard, or I swear I’ll rip you apart!”  
  
Fortunately, the bullets had the right effect. Even before Dean had reached the place where he’d seen the worm disappear with his brother, the creature reappeared from the ground. It was still dragging Sam along with it, and Dean could see that one of the monster’s fangs had pierced through Sam’s leg. Oh, he was _so_ gonna kill this thing!  
  
“Now where did Sam get you…?” Dean mumbled, pointing the rifle at the big bug.   
  
It was when the sand monster discarded Sam like a piece of garbage and instead raised itself above Dean that he noticed the greenish liquid that oozed out of its underside. He realized then, as Sam must have realized too, the worm’s belly was different from the rest of it. Dean pulled the trigger of the rifle but instead of shooting off a bullet, the rifle merely clicked.  
  
“Shit…” Dean said, rejected the rifle and pulled out his knife – and just in time too.   
  
The vamp-pion-worm’s pointed fangs headed straight for him, but since Sam had managed to injure it, the creature’s movements weren’t as fast as previously. Dean easily ducked and rolled. He then stabbed the monster’s belly as deep as he could, then dragged the knife in and slid as wide and deep as possible, before getting out of the way. A flood of green liquid gushed out, and the enormous beast let out a long, high-pitched shriek. The green goo continued to flow out of its guts for several minutes, and the vamp-pion-worm swayed a bit from side to side before finally collapsing to the ground.   
  
And that was the last bit of attention Dean gave the sand monster as he rushed to his brother’s side. Sam hadn’t moved an inch from where the worm had dropped him. Dean was afraid of the condition he would find Sam in. He hadn’t forgotten what had happened to their guide.  
  
“Sam!” Dean shouted, kneeled down in the sand and cradled Sam’s head. “Geez, kid.”  
  
Sam’s face was bloody and scratched. Sand was clogging his nostrils and mouth, and Dean quickly worked on removing as much as possible. How Sam had even managed to avoid suffocating was beyond Dean – the sand seemed to be frigging everywhere. Sam’s left arm was covered in blood, and Dean discovered that it came from a big, nasty-looking puncture wound in his brother’s upper arm. One of Sam’s legs (the one the monster had pierced with a fang) was a bloody mess as well, and Dean was really worried about the amount of blood the kid had lost. Sam was as pale as his now absent Bedouin head-scarf. He looked feverish and sweaty – although Sam’s entire body shook as if he was cold.   
  
“It got you, didn’t it? With the stinger?” Dean asked softly, gently putting a hand on Sam’s forehead and brushing his brother’s bangs back.   
  
If that was the case, then Sam had probably been injected with some sort of venom. Dean swallowed nervously. A regular scorpion sting could be lethal. Who knew if the vamp-pion-worm’s venom was deadly as well?  
  
Dean removed his own head-covering and ripped it in two, before tying one piece around the wound on Sam’s arm. He used the other piece to make a tourniquet around Sam’s leg in an attempt to stop the bleeding.   
  
“You’re gonna be okay, Sammy.” Dean promised. He clenched his teeth and ignored the pain in his ribs as he hoisted Sam up into a fireman’s carry.   
  
Luckily it wasn’t too far to where they’d left the camel – tied to a palm tree and looking at Dean like it hadn’t even realized they’d been gone.   
  
“Stupid long-faced giraffe.” Dean mumbled, although he was secretly relieved to see it again since he needed to get Sam some medical treatment as fast as possible.   
  
Dean put Sam down carefully. He then quickly dug out their first-aid kit and his waterskin from one of the bags, before he hurried back to his brother. Dean unscrewed the lid of the waterskin, placed a hand underneath Sam’s neck and lifted Sam’s head a bit. Placing the waterskin at Sam’s lips, Dean carefully poured some water into Sam’s mouth. Aside from making sure that Sam stayed hydrated, Dean also hoped to remove some of the sand in the process. Sam suddenly made a gurgling sound in his throat – then started coughing up sandy water.  
  
“That’s it, Sammy, get it out.” Dean said and gently turned Sam onto his side to make sure Sam didn’t choke.   
  
“D’n.” Sam gasped between coughs and sputtering.   
  
“Right here, little brother, right here,” Dean said and rubbed a hand back and forth between Sam’s shoulder blades in a comforting gesture; “you’re alright.”  
  
“Cold…” Sam muttered, shaking like a leaf; “s-so c-cold.”  
  
“No Sam, you’re burning up.” Dean said with concern and rolled Sam onto his back again. “Haven’t I told you not to go play with monsters on your own?”  
  
Sam didn’t answer. He seemed to be pretty much out of it – eyes still clenched shut and pain lines visible around the edges. He gasped and hissed when Dean removed the piece of cloth from his leg to examine the wound. Dean desperately hoped the vamp-pion-worm’s fangs didn’t contain venom as well its stinger. One envenomed bite was more than enough to cope with. The leg wound required a great deal of stitches though, which Dean would have been capable of doing, if time wasn’t of the essence. Instead, he quickly cleaned the wound and wrapped gauze around it before taking a look at Sam’s arm. Dean winced as he saw the swollen wound. Sam whimpered as Dean probed the heated edges of it, and Dean gently shushed him. He cleaned the wound as thoroughly as possible – then broke an instant cold pack, wrapped it in a piece of cloth and put it on the wound.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Dean said when his kid brother nearly leaped off the ground when the pack touched his arm. He gently pushed Sam back down, and then wrapped Sam’s arm in gauze as well.   
  
When Dean looked at his brother’s face again, Sam’s eyes had opened. However, Sam’s eye movements were random, and breathing seemed to be becoming more and more difficult for him. They were running out of time.  
  
“We’re gonna get you back to town and get you some help in no time.” Dean told his brother with a confidence he didn’t feel, and helped Sam swallow down a couple of Tylenols.  
  
Dean quickly packed their things and attached them to the camel, before he carefully half-dragged, half-carried Sam to the waiting animal. Having watched how the guide had handled it, Dean managed (although through a lot of swearing and cursing) to get the oversized reindeer to kneel down. Getting Sam seated on it though, proved to be a little more difficult. Sam was like a ragdoll – he had no control over his own body anymore. He was barely conscious either, let alone coherent enough to understand what Dean was saying. Dean knew that Sam wouldn’t be able to hold on to the camel and stay seated on his own, so Dean situated himself behind Sam and pulled Sam’s back against his chest. He then pressed his thighs against both sides of Sam’s hips and wrapped his arms around his brother’s midsection before grabbing the reins of the camel.  
  
“I know it’s not the car, but it’ll have to do for now.” Dean said to his trembling brother, and then addressed the smelly beast they were seated on. “Come on, you big gazelle. Giddy up!”  
  
He tugged on the reins a couple of times, made a clicking noise with his tongue and bore his heels into the animal’s flanks. Even though it wasn’t like riding a horse, Dean’s actions still had the right effect and the camel rose. Dean hadn’t expected its back legs to move first though, and he and Sam almost tumbled off before the front legs raised as well – settling them into an even keel. Sam’s head lolled against Dean’s neck. His shaggy hair tickled Dean’s chin as Sam let out a pained whimper. Dean held Sam tighter, determined to get his brother safely back to Giza and get him the help he so desperately needed right now.   
  
“I guess you were right about that camel after all, huh Sammy? That it would come in handy?” Dean said, then a smile tugged at his lips. “I know, I know… It’s a dromedary.”

                                                     

Getting Sam back to Giza turned out to be a nightmare. Dean had an idea of where the town was located, but the desert was enormous and most of the landscape looked the same. There were several times where Dean feared they were lost, but then finally with relief he saw pyramids (and some of the other old crap) Sam had lectured him about when they’d first entered the desert. Even though he hadn’t been paying much attention at the time, Dean had still looked every time Sam had pointed at something. And if there was one thing Dean had learned while growing up with John Winchester, it was to pay attention to details – and to memorize them. So Dean soon used the historical landmarks as indicators to find their way back, and was happy every time another familiar item showed up.   
  
It was still hot in the desert, but not for much longer. It wouldn’t be long before the sun set in the horizon, and then it would only be a matter of time before the temperature dropped. Dean unconsciously pulled Sam closer, making his kid brother mutter something unintelligible in the process. Sam seemed to be getting weaker and weaker every mile of sand they left behind – his breathing getting shallower and wheezy. At one point, Sam even started convulsing for a few terrifying seconds, and Dean’s heart took longer than he’d admit to return to a more normal pace after that experience. 

                                      

The town of Giza had finally shown up - and several hours later, Dean was situated in a plastic chair next to Sam’s hospital bed, watching his brother sleep. The doctors had barely managed to save Sam’s life, and Dean was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d almost lost his little brother. Sam’s shinbone was broken. He had a white cast on his leg, which had been elevated on a couple of pillows on the hospital bed. The wound that the stinger had caused on Sam’s upper arm had been stitched up and bandaged – and would probably require a sling for a while, once Sam was back on his feet. A mask strapped around Sam’s head was providing his kid brother with oxygen, and Dean watched how it fogged with every breath Sam puffed out.   
  
It was a miracle Sam had responded to the treatment at all. Since Dean hadn’t been able to share more details about the sting other than the fact that it came from a scorpion stinger, the doctors had been forced to experiment a bit with the antivenom dosages. Luckily, their treatment of Sam had proved to be a success, and he was now resting up in the ICU section of the hospital. Dean knew that Sam was not completely out of the woods yet and that his brother had to stay at the hospital for a little while, but Dean counted it as a win nevertheless.   
  
“Sammy?” Dean asked, noticing the flutter of Sam’s eyelids and the way his fingers twitched; “you waking up?”  
  
Sam moaned softly and slowly blinked his eyes open, and Dean was immediately hovering above him.   
  
“Hey there, sleepy head,” Dean teased, good-naturedly; “about time you decided to wake up. Do you know how boring you are when you sleep?”  
  
“D’n,” Sam croaked out – voice slightly muffled by the oxygen mask; “wha-?”  
  
“You’re at the hospital, Sam; in frigging Egypt.” Dean explained.   
  
Sam frowned, and tired and confused eyes settled on Dean. As Sam reached for the oxygen mask, Dean gently grabbed his wrist and pulled the hand back down.   
  
“The… the sand monster?” Sam asked and Dean nodded.  
  
“Dead,” he said; “thanks to your awesome big brother. And guess what? I even used that goddamned camel to get us back to town.”  
  
Sam smiled softly and blinked slowly a couple of times, before he mumbled something than Dean couldn’t catch.  
  
“What was that?” Dean asked and leaned closer.  
  
“Not a camel.” Sam repeated.  
  
“You’re right,” Dean said and gently brushed a lock of hair out of Sam’s eyes; “it’s a dromedary.”

                                                    

“Thanks again for your help, kid.” Irv Franklin said as they were about to part ways at the airport. “Sorry about the damages though.”  
  
The older hunter nodded towards Sam’s leg, but Sam just shrugged it off.  
  
“Comes with the job.” He said, adjusting the sling on his arm a little bit. “You sure you don’t want a lift?”  
  
“No, that’s alright.” Franklin said. “Hey, is your brother okay? We barely landed before he ran off.”  
  
Sam failed to hide a grin. Dean had handled the flight back to America even worse than he’d handled the trip to Egypt, which Sam assumed had something to do with the thunderstorm the plane had passed through on their way home. Dean had leaped out of his seat the very second the plane was back on solid ground, and had been the first one to exit the plane too. When all other passengers had left though, Dean had returned to help Sam out of the plane, mumbling something about having needed some fresh air. As soon as he had guided Sam to a chair inside the airport, Dean had disappeared in a hurry after offering a brief ‘goodbye’ to Franklin.  
  
“He’s just eager to see his car again,” Sam explained with a smile; “he’s bringing it to the front, so I don’t have to walk too far.”  
  
“I do remember him being very fond on that car.” Irv recalled, then shrugged his shoulders and shook Sam’s hand as he said goodbye.  
  
After Franklin had left, Sam didn’t have to wait for long before Dean returned. Sam noticed that Dean had regained a little color in his cheeks again after the plane ride, but Dean was still in a bad mood. That mood soon changed though when Dean slid behind the wheel of his car and gently caressed the dashboard in front of him. He grinned widely at Sam, and Sam shook his head.  
  
“What?” Dean grinned. “A man can’t be happy to be reunited with his baby?”  
  
“Do whatever you want; I’m too tired to make any comments.” Sam yawned and leaned back against the leather seat.  
  
Even though there wasn’t much room for his broken leg, Sam couldn’t deny how comfortable the seats were. It always took Sam some time apart from the Impala to realize how much he cared for it, but he would never admit that to Dean. His brother was obnoxious enough as it was when it came to that car.   
  
Sam felt something soft and warm land on his lap, and he cracked an eye open to discover that Dean had thrown him a blanket. Dean didn’t offer any explanation. His big brother just looked at Sam – never needing to explain himself when he performed these small acts of affection. Without a word, Dean cranked the engine and turned on the radio before singing along on well-known song.   
  
Sam smiled sleepily and closed his eyes again. It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings – in the safety of the Impala and by his brother’s side.

 

 

* * *

 

**THE END**


End file.
